AMAL
Aasim Bhai has changed a lot since the last time I saw him. Some of the hard lines of his face have eased and he looks a lot older in just a year. It’s his eyes, though, that put me off. They are bloodshot and dark circles run down his face, almost reaching his cheeks.
His eyes land on Sophia, then me, filled with so much pain and something else I can’t detect.
“Baba,” He whispers and all the walls I’d put up begin to crumble.
I cross the space between us and throw myself at him. For some reason, it feels weird. When his arm curls around my waist, I have the sudden urge to rip it off. It feels so heavy, so uncomfortable. Pressing myself like this against him is unlike any other feeling I’ve ever experienced.
Except . . .
My body thinks otherwise. It remembers feeling this exact
